Enigma of Oblivon
by Joelcoxriley
Summary: "I tried looking back at myself, that girl, that beast, that woman during the Oblivion Crisis of the Third Era. I tried to find words that I could use to describe myself, back then. All those years I have tried, and only now did I figure out why I am nameless: No words now exist to describe what I once was." *Biography of Shealyne. First person.*


**Hello. Here is the bio of Shea I will write(not that anyone cares). This will be in first person, and since I didn't want to write a bio in boring format, I made it a biography. Kind of. This first chapter is just to get in the writing style and set up the beginning of the bio. I will write in in sections. Either way, I only own Shea and her family.**

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_Chapter One: Loosening the Tongue_

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My name is Shealyne De Suaveterre, eldest daughter of Quentin and Elizabeth De Suaveterre of Daggerfall. I was born during the Third Era-an Era most infamous for the renowned Oblivion Crisis, when the Jaws of Oblivion had opened wide to swallow all of Mundus whole. The Jaws of Oblivion are now shut, and ending of the Crisis acted as a siren to the darkness of the Third Era to end, and the dawn of the Fourth Era to beckon to the Heavens. I find this new age foreign, and alien. But my comforts of the Third Era are long gone. By many rights, so should I.

I should be buried, cold and dead, within the grounds of an unmarked grave of the forgotten age of the Oblivion Crisis. That, unfortunately, was some two hundred years ago. It appears I am well past my date of mortal expiration. You may ask, 'Ah, but Shealyne, how could one have acquired such longevity? Surely one must be blessed by the Nine in skills of alchemy or restoration?'

If only those assumptions were correct. I wonder, in my idol moments within the Heartlands of Cyrodiil, how my life would have changed had I not acted so childish towards my mother and her wishes. In truth, I do not know which path would have better. I know is that I can only look back, and wonder what would have happened to a girl that now has no name, story told and long dead, as Arkay beckons us. Alas, not even Stendar hears my prayers. Only the Dread Father does. He so loves his daughters.

But I digress.

You must forgive if my social graces are not within your standing, for I have lived a most solitary life within my darling Cyrodiil for many a year. Oh, how my tongue waggles so! It is most bizarre, how you mortals take the simple things for granted. I pity you, truly, I do. Each beat, each pulse sends you spiralling closer and closer to death. Each precious second, slipping by and you are so accustomed to it that you do not even notice. Each breath one less, each beat closer to the last. Your kind-mortals-you are weak, fragile and aging.

Yet, for all your faults, I believe it is my kind that is susceptible to pity. After all, I have seen very few of my kind take such courageous action for the defense of mortals-save for Janus Hassildor, the Count of Skingrad. What a handsome man he was. I wonder if he still rules County Skingrad to this day? I pray he does. Janus was an example of what we could be. I hope I am one as well.

Indeed, I have been many a man fight valiantly during the Crisis of the Third Era. It was a shame to see so many good men die, their widows broken. Indeed, my immortal kin are selfish and cruel, save for only a handful I can think of.

I had a soul once. I believe now, I do not have one. I may have lost it the very moment when my heart ceased to beat, or I may have lost it during my time during the Dark Brotherhood, and the atrocities I have caused-to strangers and loved ones-out of both survival and mindless slaughter. That is what I envy of you most. You have a soul, a beating, living soul. I often wonder what causes mortals to be so fearless of death. If I had that courage once, I do not remember it.

That is something that the races of Men, Mer and Beasts have. Compassion, fearlessness...or foolishness? Hope?

Vampires are too selfish, cowards, more animal than man.

I shall tell my tale from the very beginning-of the court intrigue of Daggerfall, up until now.

Once I am finished, I shall allow you to judge me. Judge me, and ask what you will of me. I shall hold nothing back. My sentence was given long ago.

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**Some chapters will be shorter than others depends on how much she want to explain. The Dark Brotherhood years will be the most...interesting. Some parts relevant to my dream stories will be cut out, or at least skimmed over to prevent spoilers(even though some stories involving Shea are simple-if violent). Flesh and Soul she can more speak more on, since it is already finished. That horrible, horrible story...  
**

**So, future outlines(roughly):**

**Chapter Two: Daggerfall, bitchy relatives, court gossip, arranged marriages, rebellious teens and piss poor choices.**

**Chapter Three: Consequences of said piss poor choices, Hammerfell, slave/sex trafficking, meeting and allying with Corvus, ransom and duties, hurt pride and escape.**

**Chapter Four: Running to Cyrodiil, being lost, hurt pride, refusing to run crying home to Mama, unfit girl not knowing how to survive, Vampirism and lost in the Imperial City.**

**Chapter Five: Vampirism unleashed, the wolf and lamb, first kill, trolls, Lucien Lachance, refusing Lucien Lachance.**

**Outlines are more likely to change depending on how lazy I am/how much time I have. I also might up the rating, depending. **

**Thanks for reading.**


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